


it's the small things

by softbebe



Series: always ends soft [12]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 11:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softbebe/pseuds/softbebe
Summary: It’s all the small things building up, adding and adding without end, that make Hoseok feel loved.





	it's the small things

**Author's Note:**

> Have one more soft one before the angst.

For Hoseok, it’s the small things.

When they meet eyes from across the room without meaning to, and Minhyuk smiles at him, one of those quiet smiles of his that he keeps for off-camera only.

When Minhyuk comes over with the last piece of kimbap and feeds it to him in the middle of a busy schedule, giving Hoseok just a little bit more fuel to get through the day.

When they’re backstage after a performance and Minhyuk blots at the sweat on the back of Hoseok’s neck with a tissue and says, “Good job.”

When their hands brush, for just a moment, completely unintentional, and Hoseok will tangle their fingers briefly or Minhyuk will – one of them will squeeze for the shortest second and the other squeezes back. They don’t even have to look at each other, but it’s just a second of contact, reassurance, whatever it is. A moment of comfort among many, many hours of waiting rooms and stages and cameras and rushing and makeup and hair and touchups and gogogo.

It’s all the small things building up, adding and adding without end, that make him feel loved.

* * *

It’s when it’s past midnight and Hoseok is in his tiny studio, pretending his eyes don’t sting as much as they do.

Minhyuk knocks and enters, checking on him like he does often these days. Hoseok knows it’s a sign he’s been working himself too hard.

“Drink some water,” Minhyuk says, placing a bottle on the desk. “Rest your eyes,” he says, giving Hoseok’s shoulders a firm knead. “Don’t work yourself too hard,” he says, giving Hoseok a kiss on the cheek. “And get home before three this time, you need to sleep.”

He leaves as quickly as he came, closing the door quietly behind him. Hoseok hesitates a moment, then snatches up the water bottle, tucks his laptop under his arm, and hurries to catch up.

* * *

It’s draping an arm over Minhyuk’s shoulders as they sit on the couch watching a movie with the rest of the guys. Minhyuk’s hand is warm on his thigh, skin on skin and it’s casual and it means a lot. By the time the movie is over, Minhyuk has curled against him, head on his shoulder and arm draped loosely over his stomach.

The others stretch and rise, talk about the movie as they go to the kitchen for snacks or head straight off to their beds. Hoseok waits for Minhyuk to lift his head from his shoulder, which takes until after the kitchen is empty.

And then Minhyuk turns to him and presses the quickest kiss to his lips, and mutters a sleepy “Good night” before heading to his room as well.

* * *

It’s when the TV show host asks them the question they thought they’d finally moved past, but no, here it is again. _What is your ideal type?_

The interviewer looks at Minhyuk, who makes a pensive sound, pretends not to be as sick of this question as he is.

“Someone…strong?” he says, after pretending to think about it seriously. The rest of them chuckle, because they’re so bored of the question that there isn’t really any other way to respond.

To lighten the mood, Hoseok says, “Oh, isn’t that me?”

He glances back toward Minhyuk in the row behind him, whose eyebrows go up for a second. And then Minhyuk laughs and says to the host, “I guess it’s Wonho-hyung.”

* * *

It’s Minhyuk flopping into the seat beside him in the back of the van with a huff and admitting, “It’s a bad day.”

He’s frustrated with himself, mouth set in a scowl, eyes downcast. He tips his head back against the headrest, lets out another huff.

Hoseok puts a hand on his knee, squeezes. “You’re doing great. You made us laugh so much today.”

It’s hard to get Minhyuk out of these moods – usually he just has to stew himself through them. Still, a few words of encouragement go far, Hoseok thinks. They always do for him.

Minhyuk sighs for a third time, then slouches and rests his head on Hoseok’s shoulder. It isn’t easy with their positions and the seatbelts, and he’s going to get a crick in his neck soon enough, but he stays like that for a few minutes at least, as the road jostles them slightly.

Before he sits back straight, he turns his face slightly, so his nose just brushes Hoseok’s neck, and murmurs, “Thank you.”

* * *

It’s sitting next to Minhyuk on their hotel bed, watching a movie together and pretending it’s almost like a date. He plays with Minhyuk’s fingers, slowly just bending and unbending them, just admiring them, how knobby they are, and crooked, and long, and cute.

“Hyung,” Minhyuk complains halfheartedly. “Watch the movie.”

“I am,” Hoseok says, still not looking at the TV.

_“Hyung!”_

Hoseok laughs, wraps his arms around Minhyuk, tugs him closer. He pulls Minhyuk back against his chest and hugs him, propping his chin on his shoulder.

Minhyuk wriggles a bit, slipping a bit further down in Hoseok’s hold. He eventually rests his weight against Hoseok, leans his head back against his chest. Soon he’s asleep in Hoseok’s arms, and Hoseok just smiles and smiles.

* * *

It’s Minhyuk bursting into laughter during sex, and Hoseok going still and saying, flustered, “What? _What?_ What is it?”

Minhyuk laughs and laughs and laughs, breathless and gasping. He looks beautiful – hair rucked back against the pillow, cheeks flushed, a light sheen of sweat all over his body. Once he finally catches his breath, he looks up at Hoseok with eyes that are still teary with mirth, and says, “There’s a booger hanging out of your nose.”

Before Hoseok can even do anything, Minhyuk reaches up, hooks a fingernail into his nostril, scrapes the booger out, and flicks it away.

“There. All better.” He loops his arms around Hoseok’s neck, smiles up at him, and says, “You can keep going now.”

* * *

It’s getting back from the gym late, slipping into their hotel room as quietly as he can but the locks on the doors are always big and bulky and click too loudly. Still, Minhyuk doesn’t stir as Hoseok pads over to his suitcase and takes out a pair of shorts to sleep in, using his phone for light.

He heads to the bathroom to shower, takes his time breathing in the steam and letting the hot water ease his muscles. He blow dries his hair because he knows it isn’t the type of sound to wake Minhyuk up.

He tiptoes to bed, lifts back the sheet and slips in beside Minhyuk. The mattress creaks loudly, though, and Minhyuk lets out a breath and then a quiet groan deep in his throat, a sound that means he’s been woken up.

“Sorry,” Hoseok whispers.

“S’okay. How was the gym?”

“Good.”

“Good,” Minhyuk says as Hoseok spoons against him, draping an arm over his waist.

Hoseok kisses the back of his neck and expects Minhyuk to fall quickly back to sleep, because this is what usually happens when he accidentally wakes Minhyuk up like this.

Except tonight Minhyuk turns around in his arms. There’s a warm hand on his jaw, Minhyuk feeling his way up his face, palm settling against his cheek. And then Minhyuk’s lips find his, press for a moment and pull back with a faint _smack._ Minhyuk snuggles against his chest and sighs, “’Night.”

After a moment of surprise, Hoseok melts, slinging his arm more securely over Minhyuk’s waist and pressing his smile to the top of Minhyuk’s head. “Good night,” he whispers.

* * *

It’s Minhyuk inviting him out for coffee at midnight, at a small café they frequent near Hoseok’s studio. They sit at a small corner table, Minhyuk with his hood up and Hoseok with a hat on and his jacket zipped high around his neck, sipping their coffee and talking about the day – dance practice, Changkyun’s hilarious joke during their recording, the gum Minhyuk stepped in on the walk over.

Their feet bump under the table, but that’s all. As much as Hoseok wants to reach for Minhyuk’s hand resting on the table and cover it with his own, as much as he wants to tuck that bit of hair sticking out of Minhyuk’s hood back behind his ear, as much as he wants to hook their ankles together and flirt with Minhyuk outright in the dim café light, he doesn’t do any of it. They just talk, and laugh, the twinkle in their eyes the only thing communicating how much more they wish they could be doing, even though they’re happy to just be here together.

Their shoulders bump on the short trek back to Hoseok’s studio, and Minhyuk is going home to sleep but first he walks Hoseok back to his studio door and inside. As soon as the door shuts, he takes Hoseok’s face in his hands and kisses him, his mouth still tasting like coffee.

And then he pulls back and says, “Good night,” leaving Hoseok alone with a tingle in his lips, to make whimsical melodies and to write whimsical lyrics.

Hoseok’s phone buzzes. The text says, _‘But don’t stay up too late <3’_

He breathes out a laugh, then lets out another breath, more pained. He bites his lip, closes his eyes, waits for the knot in his chest to loosen.

The thing is, he’s in love, and it’s the small things that make him fall harder.


End file.
